


Empty

by BrassGoggles



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrassGoggles/pseuds/BrassGoggles
Summary: "If I’m destined to be nothing more than decoration, then I’m damn well going to be the most gorgeous decoration of them all.”“Asmo, wait, that’s not who you are!” I try to protest, but he just shoots me a sad, knowing smile.“That’s sweet of you, darling, but you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I’m the Avatar of Lust, after all. Beautiful, alluring, a shiny object meant to be desired – that’s all I’m ever going to be. I guess maybe I was hoping that this contest could help prove that I’m more than that, but…,” he shakes his head with a hollow laugh. “But who am I fooling? I’ve pretended to be empty inside for so long that now I truly am.”(Set at the end of/right after Lesson 31.)
Kudos: 30





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> Asmodeus getting actual character development in the main lessons has made me so incredibly happy, so I just had to write something for him. I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out, so thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Obligatory spoiler warning for Lesson 31.)

Things were getting pretty tense at the House of Lamentation. Asmodeus had _not_ taken the latest RAD news update well, to say the least. Now he was angry at both Lucifer and Beelzebub, and refusing to talk to either of them. Poor Beel had barely even known he was part of the bloody moon competition to begin with, and definitely hadn’t cared, but trying to explain that to Asmo so far hasn’t gotten any of us anywhere.

Currently, Asmodeus is taking out his frustration on his poor closet, stalking back and forth across his room, leaving random articles of clothing strewn about in his wake. I can’t tell if he’s trying to put an outfit together for himself or for me, his personal dress-up doll whenever one or both of us is stressed out – but honestly, Asmo doesn’t seem to know himself. Sometimes he’ll hold something up to me before muttering to himself and tossing it aside, while other times he’ll just shrug off whatever he’s currently wearing and try it on himself. I’ve long since retreated to the edge of his bed, figuring it’s the safest option for staying out of his way without outright leaving the room. He obviously needs someone to talk to right now, although getting him to actually _listen_ to me has been pretty difficult so far.

“Asmo,” I try for what’s probably the eleventh time, but he ignores me again, too busy examining the material of his latest victim. The jacket must do something to offend him, because he makes a sound of disgust and tosses it across the room without looking back. I lean back quickly, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face by it. _Maybe this spot isn’t as safe as I thought it was._ “Asmo!” I say again, louder this time, finally catching his attention. “Could you please stop running around the room for just a second and come over here?” I pat the bed beside me, and Asmodeus gasps with delight, abandoning his hunt to come plop himself down in my lap.

“My my, how forward of you! Inviting me to my own bed now, are we?” he purrs, giving me a coy smile. “If you wanted my attention that badly, you should have said so sooner.”

I smile in return, gently shoving him off to sit beside me instead, like I’d originally intended. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” I scold lightly. He pouts, but brightens up a bit when I take his hands in mine, although I mostly do so just to make sure he stays put for the time being. “Listen, I think we need to talk.”

“I agree; we have _got_ to come up with a better strategy. Mammon’s and Satan’s ideas were all awful, so we’re just going to have to come up with something on our own.”

“No, Asmo, that’s not what I meant,” I say, shaking my head. “We need to talk about how quickly this competition has spiraled out of control. I don’t like what it’s doing to you.” I hesitate only briefly before adding “It might be a good idea to just forget the whole thing altogether.”

“What?!” Asmo says, predictably opposed to the idea. “We can’t just _forget_ about it! At this rate, I don’t stand a chance of –”, he cuts himself off, eyes narrowing. “Oh. I _see_. You’ve decided you’d rather help someone else win, instead of me.”

“No, that’s not it!” I protest, squeezing his hands gently. “I just don’t like how much this stupid popularity contest is affecting you. You’re not acting like yourself lately.”

Asmo pulls his hands away, crossing his arms as he stands, putting distance between the two of us. “That’s ridiculous; I’m not acting any differently! And it’s _not_ stupid! Why can’t you see how important this is to me?”

“But _why_ is it so important?” I press. “What exactly are you trying to prove?”

“Nothing! Everything! I don’t know! I just… I need…,” he trails off, falling back onto the bed again to bury his face in his hands. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so openly distressed – at least not without being drunk – which only makes me even more worried. But at least my suspicions were correct: there’s definitely more going on here than Asmodeus has admitted.

I don’t speak, hoping he’ll keep going if I give him enough time. I rub his back gently, drawing a quiet sigh from his lips. Asmo peaks up at me from behind his fingers before dropping his hands back into his lap listlessly. His eyes are unfocused when he speaks again, his voice uncharacteristically devoid of warmth. “I’ve been around for a long time, you know? And I’ve worked very hard to make sure people see only what they want to when they look at me. Only what _I_ want them to.”

“What do you mean?” I prompt gently when he falls silent again. Whether he hears me or not, I can’t tell, but he continues regardless, eyes still far away.

“Even back in the celestial realm, I was always just the ‘pretty’ one. Lucifer was the perfect angel, Mammon the adorable troublemaker, Beel and Belphie the adventurous twins. But me? The only time anyone ever mentioned me was to comment on how gorgeous I was. Practically no one really took the time to get to know me beyond that.” My heart twists at the cold acceptance in his voice. I knew next to nothing about Asmodeus’ life as an angel, but I had kind of assumed that anyone living in the celestial realm would be happy there. _I guess if that were the case, there wouldn’t have ever been a rebellion._ His next words only twist the knife in deeper. “And after we fell, I decided it’d be easier to just give in. If I’m destined to be nothing more than decoration, then I’m damn well going to be the most gorgeous decoration of them all.”

“Asmo, wait, that’s not who you are!” I try to protest, but he just shoots me a sad, knowing smile.

“That’s sweet of you, darling, but you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I’m the Avatar of Lust, after all. Beautiful, alluring, a shiny object meant to be desired – that’s all I’m ever going to be. I guess maybe I was hoping that this contest could help prove that I’m more than that, but…,” he shakes his head with a hollow laugh. “But who am I fooling? I’ve pretended to be empty inside for so long that now I truly am.”

“Asmodeus, don’t you dare talk like that!” I scold, more loudly than I meant to. He jumps a little when I grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to face me. _Does he really feel this way? How could I not have noticed?_ My gaze softens again, and I continue in a much gentler tone “You are _not_ empty, Asmo.” He gives me another self-deprecating smile, but I shake my head, putting a finger to his lips before he can speak. “And don’t tell me I’m just trying to cheer you up, or that you’ve managed to trick me into believing that.”

Asmo hums, plants a teasing peck on my fingertip. “Have I mentioned how charming you are when you read my mind like that?”

“This isn’t a joking matter,” I say with a frown.

Asmodeus sighs indulgently, realizing his attempt to deflect the subject failed. “Oh, alright then. If you’re that determined to list my many, many good qualities, I suppose I can’t stop you.” He’s still trying to play this off as nothing, but there’s a fragileness in his eyes that his carefree voice fails to hide.

Normally I try not to encourage his complement-fishing, but for once I think he actually needs the ego boost. “Well, for starters, you’re one of the sweetest people I have ever met, demon, human, or angel. You’re so openly affectionate, and you always take time to try to cheer me or your brothers up whenever we’re feeling down.” As I speak, he tries to turn his head away again, so I reach up and gently cup his cheeks, coaxing him to stay focused on me. I want him to hear this – he _needs_ to hear this. “You actively try to get us to do things together as a family, which I’d bet is a large part of how you all have managed to stay so close for literally thousands of years. You’re intelligent, creative, comforting, fun to be around – and so much more that I could go on for a hundred years and still not reach the end of the list.”

“What, only a hundred?” Asmo jokes feebly, his voice cracking. I smile, my thumbs gently brushing away his silent tears.

“Well, that’s a pretty long time for me – the rest of my life, in fact. But if it means helping you realize how wonderful you are, I’d gladly spend all of it doing just that.” The last of his resolve breaks at that, and Asmodeus lurches forward, burying his face against my shoulder with a small, choked-off sob. “There’s so much more to you than just lust or beauty, Asmo,” I continue soothingly, hugging him close, his arms automatically tightening around me in response. He’s quiet again, his shaking shoulders and the tears dampening my shirt the only signs of his breakdown. “Everyone who truly cares about you – your brothers, Solomon, _me_ – we can all see that. We love you for _you_ , not because of anything else.”

“Thank you,” he eventually whispers against my skin, his words so quiet I feel more than hear them. Then, slightly louder, “I don’t know if I can believe all of that yet, but… thank you.”

“Just promise me you’ll try?”

“I will. But….”

“But you’re still thinking about the bloody moon festival,” I finish for him.

He’s quiet for a while, before finally admitting in a muffled voice “I still want to win.”

“Then I’ll still try to help you do that,” I say, running a hand through his hair. “But I’ll also be right here reminding you that who you are is more than enough, regardless of what everyone else thinks. I promise.”

Asmodeus nods slowly, face still buried in the crook of my neck. He hugs me even closer, and in a voice still shaky with emotion asks “Is it alright if we just… stay like this for a while?”

“Of course.” I plant a soft kiss to his temple, my lips ghosting over his skin. “Take as long as you need,” I murmur in a voice loud enough for just the two of us. We stay like that for a long, long time, until Asmo eventually drifts off to sleep. Gently, I guide us down to lie on his bed, making sure to keep my arms around him. I don’t know how much of what I said got through to him, but I hope he realizes how much I meant it. My own eyes drift shut, mind going hazy with sleep. _I promise, Asmo, I’ll be here for as long as you need me._ It’s the last coherent thought I have before letting myself drift off as well.


End file.
